


Truth (is just the nightmare of reality)

by AutumnBlownAway



Series: Dollhouse (You can't tell plastic is broken until it's cracked) [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Death Tony Stark, Depressed Tony Stark, Emotional Hurt, Flashbacks, Gen, Howard Stark deserves hell, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, Hurt Tony Stark, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Fic, Kid Tony Stark, Kinda, Maria Stark's Good Parenting, Past Child Abuse, Physical Abuse, Poor Tony, Post-Avengers (2012), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Avengers (2012), Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Songfic, Supernatural Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has Daddy Issues, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark is Death, Tony Stark is a manifestation of death, Tony Stark sees dead things, Tony Stark sees ghosts, no joke, oh god what have I done, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 10:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18714859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnBlownAway/pseuds/AutumnBlownAway
Summary: Tony Stark has always been been thought to have a perfect life, perfect home, loving parents.Or, maybe not. (He's a manifestation of death)-A one-shot backstory of my series Dollhouse (You can't tell plastic is broken until it's cracked)-A Tony Stark sees dead things AU





	Truth (is just the nightmare of reality)

****

**Truth (is just the nightmare of reality)**

The pencil broke with a  _ SNAP!  _ as Tony’s white-knuckle grip won. He knew his temper was short today, especially because he’d been benched by Cap because of some stupid broken rib. Seriously, Tony has dealt with much,  _ much  _ worse, and a rib is the breaking point? Bullshit.

But he didn’t argue, due to the fact that he’d be placed on an even larger probation and get a serious talking-to by Spangles, as well as Fury.

(Not that  _ that  _ scared him. Tony was just sick of Roger’s disappointing speeches. Yup, already know you think I’m some useless, fucked-up bastard who’d never be a hero. That was drilled into my head when I was 5, thanks.)

This was this the 5th pencil that the genius had broken- It was Clint’s “joking” comment that tipped the cup over the edge- the avengers were all chatting about their childhood troubles (except Tony. He would never in his lifetime talk about..that.) When Clint had noticed his silence and occasional remark as a good time to say, “Nothing bad, Stark? Bet you had that spoiled apple-pie rich life, not a cloud in the sky?”

Now, Clint might have been 100% poking fun, but the emotion in the archer’s eyes Tony saw when he snapped his head up declared otherwise.

There was barely enough time to get out of the room after he replied,

“Oh, you bet. Nothing better than going to bed content as a butterfly and waking up to the world obsessed with you.” 

The lie was cool and dipped in arrogance, not even his eyes betrayed the raging opposition his body was attempting to display. There was an eye roll from Clint, calculating gaze from Natasha, and maybe half of a reprimand from Cap before Tony exited the room.

Because the truth? The Avengers would never believe him, and if they did, would never,  _ ever _ look or treat him the same way.

Because the truth? It already shattered Tony inside-out, fucked him up to a degree of where Tony  _ knew  _ he was no longer human (maybe he’d never been).

The  _ truth  _ made the terrified boy build himself a body of plastic and faux emotion because he couldn’t stand what he really felt- made the  _ pain  _ and  _ longing  _ and  _ fear  _ go numb. The  _ truth  _ had torn up the thought of a happy childhood and replaced it with a nightmare. It had  _ twisted  _ and  _ pulled  _ at the strings with sick satisfaction because there was nothing better than an empty mold waiting to be  _ created. _

(The truth had little to do with Tony’s ability to see dead things, every way and place possible, little to do with the fact that Anthony Edward Stark was a manifestation of  _ death  _ itself.)

(It had  _ everything  _ to do with Howard Stark and the man’s obsession in toying with things that  _ were not his) _

_ Mainly- Tony _

Because the doe-eyed, scared child?

(He belonged to death)

**_Start of Songfic:_ **

****  
  


**_Hey girl, open the walls, play with your dolls_ ** **_  
_ ** **_We'll be a perfect family_ **

**_When you walk away, it's when we really play_ **

A child, barely the age of three, reached out a sun-kissed palm towards the toy soldier. Gently moving it to enthusiastic scenario being woven in the boy’s mind, he giggled when the soldier, dressed in blue, red and white, exclaimed, 

“look over there, Buck! A terrible monster is attacking that town- let’s stop it!” The man behind the soldier rolled his eyes, attempting to explain why his heroic friend should be careful, and make sure he’d better not get hurt. 

“You silly goose, the child murmured, “everyone knows Cap’n America-” but was cut off when heavy, lurching footsteps sounded down the hallway. 

Breathing going wild, the doe-eyed boy scrambled to throw the toys under his bed, wrapping the covers over himself to cover the shaking that wouldn’t stop, the fear that filled him like a glass of water, the thunder in his ears-

“You in bed, you little brat? Or are you sneaking around, snooping places you shouldn’t? You know what happens when you do that, you stupid shit?”

The memories of  _ pain  _ and  _ confusion  _ and  _ why doesn’t daddy love me _ threatened to spill over his tightly shut eyes, but he stayed silent because  _ that’s when bad things don’t happen. _

As the snarled words from the  monster  faded and disappeared into the air, the child lay trembling, tears trickling down silent cheeks. He peeked out the corner of the sheets, locking eyes with the pale white form of a teenage girl, who stared at him with sympathy and shattered despair. She was one of the shadows he saw, one of the nicer ones  that didn’t have red pouring from her sockets, or whisper dark truths, not even the bullet in her head didn’t scare him, no. 

(The monster couldn’t see them, so that meant they were  _ good) _

(He likes whispering to the shadows though.) __  
  


**_You don't hear me when I say,_ ** ****__  
**_Mom, please wake up_ ** **_  
_ ** ****_Dad's with a slut, and your son is smoking cannabis_

Maria, his  _ mama,  _ took the yellow pills once again. One time, the curious  broken  boy wondered if they made her happy. Made her love the monster. 

The monster that was currently with another woman- who wasn’t his  _ mama.  _ All in once, the child innerly screamed at the creature for  _ betraying his beautiful, kind, heartbroken mother.   _

Within the next few seconds, there was a scream and a sound of the man gasping-

Something  _ dark  _ unraveled there, in the boy’s chest, as dark honey eyes glowed red.

(Secretly, the boy wanted to feel happy. Wanted to feel loved, treasured, wanted, cared for, usef-)

( _ The pills made him numb.) _

So, every day, the white shadows watched as the brown-haired human grew older, drowning himself in myriad of yellow, blue and white pills. Watched him slip away, forming a mask to conceal the crack that ran through the boy’s shattered body.

He looked just like a doll, they liked to wonder. Porcelain face, displayed such empty emotion that the smile was stretched too wide, eyes sparkling too much, nose bloodless-

**_No one never listens, this wallpaper glistens_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Don't let them see what goes down in the kitchen_ **

The boy, sporting a multitude of bruises, cuts and burns (he didn’t like being handed things from now on)  watched as one of the ghosts carefully wrapped a snow-white bandage around the frail arm. The bleeding had stopped, and the glass removed, but Jarvis had gone to bed and  _ why did it hurt so much. _

The child wished his mother would hear, or listen, or wonder if her  _ bambino  _ was alright.

_ (She never heard the muffled sobs from the boy’s room, or the angry curses from the monster that always led to bruises and pain and pills.) _

_ (she was too numb to anyways) _ __  
  


**_Places, places, get in your places_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Throw on your dress and put on your doll faces_ **

The monster, his harsh hands and sharp words hurling clothes at the boy to get dressed, because they had a  _ press meeting  _ and god forbid if the little shit  _ fuck it up. _

By this age, the child had perfected his dollface. ****__  
  


**_Everyone thinks that we're perfect_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Please don't let them look through the_ **

**_Curtains_ **

So many questions, why couldn’t they leave him alone, so many people- hands grabbing, reaching, twisting,  _ slapping, squeezing, wrenching- _

“How is your son, Mr. Stark? Surely he’s as intelligent as you?”

The creature chuckled, replying in a confident “Of course!”

But the boy caught the dark, predatory look the man sent to the 11-year-old. It sent shivers down his small spine, and that’s when he wished his translucent friends were there- the pale corpses that flashed by quickly were much different than the pitying glances the boy was accustomed to.

**_(_ ** That was when he realized he must be a predator as well, to fight another apex hunter) ****__  
  


**_Picture, picture, smile for the picture_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Pose with your brother, won't you be a good sister?_ **

(The boy never smiled for real, not since the pain had started.) ****__  
  


**_Everyone thinks that we're perfect_ ** ****__  
**_Please don't let them look through the curtains_ ** ****__  
**_D-O-L-L-H-O-U-S-E_ ** ****__  
**_I see things that nobody else sees_ ** **_  
_ ** ****_(D-O-L-L-H-O-U-S-E_

**_I see things that nobody else sees)_ **

His  _ mamma  _ was in a confused haze, staring at the child with love, then confusion, then hate and  _ why so indecisive? Why doesn’t anybody love him? _

**_(_ ** He just wanted to be liked, that was it.)

It was also when the boy was 12 he’d realized nobody else saw the ghosts that were constantly in his vision everyday, the few that plagued his nightmares, or comforted him.

(Jarvis never looked at him the same, though. He still loved the child- or at least, that’s what the doe-eyed  creature wished.)  ****__  
  


**_Hey girl, look at my mom, she's got it going on_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Ha, you're blinded by her jewelry_ **

Nobody ever realized that Maria Stark was never really  _ there. _

_ It’s all the monster’s fault,  _ the child viscously thought. His glaring red eyes cut holes the in the rain-ridden window.

**_When you turn your back she pulls out a flask_ ** **_  
_ ** **_And forgets his infidelity_ **

A 15-year-old screamed at his mom to wake up, please, just  _ goddamn leave him and get some help _

(he’d received a harsh reprimand of, “You don’t know what he’s done for us,  _ bambino,  _ you’re just a child _. _ ”, and the teen realized that his mother  _ was gone for good. _

_He’d held the silent vigil all night, silent tears_ _streaming down the cheeks that still stung._

The other hand was cradling the handprint that he’d  deserved .

**_(_ ** Today marked the date to which the haunted boy fell into a cycle of never-ending depression.) ****__  
  


**_Uh-oh, she's coming to the attic, plastic_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Go back to being plastic_ **

“Antonio?  _ Bambino,  _ where are you?”

“Here,  _ mamma.. _ ”

“Oh! I didn’t see you, you’re too small, sweetheart.” Maria looked across the room at her son, who was curled up in a large sweatshirt that hid all skin except his face. The sun-skinned boy glanced at the floor (that’s where a white shadow sat, staring at Maria through bloody eyes. Who was also ignorant to the pungent  _ death  _ that surrounded the boy and his room.

“I’m fifteen, mom.”

“Oh, my  _ bambino,  _ you’re too silly- your 7-year-old imagination must be acting up!” 

The boy stared at her, watching the too-wide eyes look at him with a dazed, glassy look. The enthusiasm just felt  _ off,  _ like the emotion was being stretched thin, that of a pizza crust in the making. Shutting his eyes to keep the despair from showing, he murmured

“Please leave.”

“Antonio, what has happened? Di-”

“Please.  _ Mamma. _ ” his voice shook- this was bad. The pills- they weren’t supposed to do...this.

( _ at least, that’s not what happened to him) _ ****__  
  


**_No one never listens, this wallpaper glistens_ ** **_  
_ ** **_One day they'll see what goes down in the kitchen_ **

Screams filled the heavy tension in the mansion, of curses and promises.

**_“_ ** _ What will you do when the press finds out, you sick fuck? Pay them off? Bribe them? Cover it up, like always? Or maybe you’ll beat them half to dea-”  _

A sound like a whip cracked against bare skin, muffled sounds fighting to make themselves heard. Ghosts, only seen to the boy, crowded as the monster whipped the belt back again, arching- arching- ****__  
  


**_Places, places, get in your places_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Throw on your dress and put on your doll faces_ **

The monster made sure all the scars were covered, all the  _ evidence  _ was hidden and they had perfected masks sitting atop their porcelain skin.

The press adored the two, thought they were the best thing to ever happen to America. 

“Two Starks? The war’ll be over in minutes!

(But not the one in the boy’s head) ****__  
  


**_Everyone thinks that we're perfect_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Please don't let them look through the curtains_ **

The Mars-eyed teen let the riveting power flow through his hands, relishing the chilling effect it brought him, and relaxed into the dark shadows of his dorm room. Bringing the cup to his face, the boy stared at it the hoisted object, snapped his fingers-

Gone. All that remained was a piece of glass.

_ Now, the teen thought, I have power. Something to heal the wounds, to call my own. _

_ Now, he thought, I am useful. _

**_Picture, picture, smile for the picture_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Pose with your brother, won't you be a good sister?_ **

When his parents died, he didn’t care. He shed tears for his wonderful  _ mamma,  _ who’d been swept away by the sea of blue, yellow and red that filled her lungs with numb.

(He’d mourned his mother’s death a long, long time ago.)

But that….Monster’s death?

Oh, he smiled at that. ****__  
  


**_Everyone thinks that we're perfect_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Please don't let them look through the curtains_ **

Rhodey found out about the death he was able to see, to manipulate and bask in- to use. He wasn’t afraid, not after he’d heard the brunette's blood-curdling screams, or the flinches at belts and sudden movements, or the words  _ useless  _ and  _ stupid  _ and  _ worthless  _ and  _ peice of shit  _ and  _ who- _

_ (Rhodey was an amazing friend, and he’d known that life was never, ever what it seemed.) _

****__  
**_D-O-L-L-H-O-U-S-E_ ** ****__  
**_I see things that nobody else sees_ ** ****__  
**_(D-O-L-L-H-O-U-S-E_ ** ****__  
**_I see things that nobody else sees)_ ** ****__  
  


Anthony Edward Stark blinked from the hazed trance, flinging the broken pencil shards away. Casually getting up from his spot on the workbench and made his way towards the bedroom. Calling out to Mochi, the little white cat, he gathered the covers and flung them over himself, attempting to sleep at 2am and figure out how his escape affected the Avengers.

Mochi, purring, curled up by his side, stretched her flesh-less ribcage of hers and rolled closer to her beloved owner.

Smirking, Tony waved his hands as the lights flicked out, settling the room into a peaceful silence.

(Except his eyes, always the eyes, that glowed the color of blood before shutting.)

_ Yes, Tony Stark belonged to death. _

_ (Or did death belong to him?) _ ****__  
  


****  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Oh, fucking hell i'm so sorry for the inactivity. Really, I am.
> 
> I saw Endgame last friday and oh god did i cry, so much. I'm seeing it with a few of my friends tomorrow and I'm so excited but so nervous augh.
> 
> but yeah, I'm starting a series and it's basically Tony sees dead things, or he's kinda a manifestation of death. This one-shot provides as a backstory, and hopefully I can come out with some new fics!
> 
> Comments and kudos are food for my soul, so feel free to leave a review :D
> 
> Song belongs to Melanie Martinez, "Dollhouse"
> 
> (wow this a non-salty fic? I'm amazed. Still, i'll always find a way to vent some salty feelings, so prepare.)


End file.
